Between sick kids and cold weather I feel like I’ve been trapped in the house forever. If you’re in a similar situation, here’s today’s tip: Buy Moana and watch it at least 10 times. It’s amazing.

Sunday:

I don’t even object to this anymore

Fancy hair!

When you recognize your friends’ cars at Target…

Monday:

Snuggle naps

Not quite ready to go

Peek a boo

Tuesday:

Someone needs driving lessons

New baby kitchen location

Superhero-ing is exhausting

Wednesday:

Someone thinks it’s spring

Sibling snuggles

A+ Parenting right here. You should take lessons from me.

Thursday:

Big brother helping at Finn’s checkup

Well that’s one way to sleep

Nice kitty, soft kitty

Friday:

They’re pretending to nap. Badly.

Napping for real. Much more convincing.

Saturday:

Who let this kid drive?!

Almost 10 years in this house and we’re finally setting up the TV area nicely

In far less exciting but expensive home repair, we just had the stairwell fixed. Finally. E pulled down the plaster a couple years ago, thinking he could just patch it. But it ended up being a really big area and we needed to have the whole thing drywalled and taped and skim coated and primed. So we paid a guy. He just left. But that was the last major thing we needed to do to have a grown-up house that doesn’t look like it’s about to collapse, so yay? Not the most fun way to spend a big chunk of money but we feel very responsible.

Two big medical things happened so far this week: I finally saw a specialist about my kidney stones (read more about THOSE here or here) and Caroline had her 8 week check-up.

On Monday I finally got my act together and called to make an appointment with the urologist who treated me in the hospital over Thanksgiving. It took until now because a) I needed a referral and getting an appointment at the Navy clinic takes approximately a zillion years and b) the only time I ever feel really sick is after 5 pm and it’s hard to make appointments with a closed office. After all that time I spent procrastinating the nurse was like “OK, can you be here at 3:45?” Unfortunately, the only reason they could see me so soon is because it was just a consult, not an actual make-the-stones-go-away appointment. The doctor ordered a CAT scan to get a better look at the stones (I couldn’t have one when I was pregnant), blood work to determine what was causing the stones and a giant bottle of pee. Yeah. I’m supposed to collect ALL MY PEE for 24 hours and bring it to a lab for testing. I’m pretty sure I have to keep it in the refrigerator while I’m collecting it too. I think I’ll put off buying groceries until I’m done with THAT. The CAT scan is next week and my follow up with the urologist is in a month, but now that I have been officially, uh, referred, I can go in for instant testing to diagnose an infection and get the drugs anytime my fever comes back. Thank God.

In happier news, Caroline is doing beautifully.

Height: 22 inches (50th percentile)
Weight: 11 pounds 15 oz (75th percentile)(damn 1 oz short of 12 pounds!! I should have fed her and weighed her again)
Head circumference: 40.3 cm

I had to bring Little Evan to the appointment and although I was prepared for the worst – complete with candy hidden in the diaper bag OH NO I AM NOT ABOVE BRIBERY – he was an angel. I’m lucky that Caroline is so easy-going because she was happy to lie on the table and just kick her legs while Evan climbed in my lap and we read Big and Little (Today’s Random Fact: There are 5 different books on Amazon with that title and none of them are the one that I own. It must be out of print) because we are working on our opposites. TAKE THAT BABYCENTER.

Even when I had to put him down to hold Caroline for her shots he just stood quietly and waited. Or maybe he was too terrified by her ear-splitting screams to run away. She was red-faced pissed from the second I pulled her leg out of her pajamas until I got her back in the car seat. I swear she knew what was coming. I hoped some milk might make her feel better trying to nurse her while she’s that mad is about as effective as trying to nurse a rabid weasel so I gave up. In other news, my boobs are 2 seconds from actually exploding, thanks to the combination of crying baby and failed latch attempt. I’ll be adding at least 10 oz to my freezer stash while Caroline sleeps off her anger.

We saw the doctor I liked (aka the one I don’t feel like I need to answer “correctly” instead of always honestly) and he made sure to give me lots of time and prompting to ask questions. Since this isn’t my first time at the baby rodeo (are you now picturing a baby rodeo? No? Just me then)(But would the babies be doing the lassoing or would people be lassoing the babies?) I didn’t have anything to ask – but knowing he would take the time to listen if I did is reassuring. The only tiny bit of contention was when he told me I should “keep trying” to give her a pacifier even though her reaction to them is similar to what yours might be if someone tried to shove a dirty sweat sock in your mouth. Thanks Doc, but we’ll pass on the paci’s, even if this week they’re a “do” – because next week they’ll probably be a “don’t”.

Here’s how Tuesday went:

Wake up, panic about oversleeping, realize I did not in fact oversleep. Find clothes that cover my body appropriately (I have given up on “fit” for the foreseeable future), brush teeth, put on mascara. Fetch toddler from crib, change and dress toddler, put toddler on couch with breakfast so I can go fetch baby, bring baby downstairs, feed and change baby. Look out the window. Notice SNOW AND ICE FALLING FROM THE SKY. Realize the day may not go exactly as I had planned. Check email to discover Stroller Strides in canceled, which means I probably can’t drop Little Evan off at the mall with a Stroller Strides friend. Consider dropping him off at the mall with strangers but decide that’s probably a poor choice. Start car because it is completely iced over. Realize I can give up and go back to bed (or at least put my PJ’s back on) if my doctor’s appointment is also canceled. Call medical center. Wait on hold. Wait on hold. Wait on hold. Wait on hold. Learn sorry, we’re still open, but if you’d like to reschedule we can see you a month from now. Decide to brave slippery roads with toddler and baby in tow. Quickly get online and renew AAA membership I’ve been forgetting to renew for the past month. JUST IN CASE. Get toddler into coat and into car. Get diaper bag full of stuff into car. Get baby into car. Slide out onto unplowed streets to drive the 12 miles to base. Drive up big giant hill praying I don’t slide backwards. Pull into parking lot and remember there is NEVER any parking here. Drive in circles for 5 minutes before gunning it down the aisle towards taillights and getting THE VERY FIRST spot, as close to the door as you can possibly get. Cheer loudly for myself. Open baby’s door, grab bucket seat. Open toddler’s door, unbuckle toddler with one hand and help him out of car. Walk towards building. Realize I can’t remember where I put my ID after showing it at the gate. Walk back to car, put bucket on icy sidewalk, tell toddler to not move. Rain and ice fall on toddler and baby while I search car floor for ID. Check wallet. Find ID in wallet. Close door, pick up bucket, pick up toddler, shuffle to building. Check in. Look incredulously at desk guy who wants me to fill out pointless paperwork. Take pointless paperwork. Sit down, get toddler snack, milk and toy. Rock baby with foot while filling out paperwork. 30 seconds later the nurse calls me in. Get up, pack up toddler’s snack, milk and toy, herd toddler towards door while carrying bucket. Give nurse the run-down of why I’m there. Wait for doctor. Give doctor run down of why I’m there. Doctor agrees she has no idea what’s going on with me and I probably should see a specialist as soon as possible. Baby starts SCREAMING. I ask if she mind’s if I nurse and she says no. Pull out boob. Doctor runs from the room, saying my referral will be at the office. Feed baby. Baby poopsplodes. Toddler poops. Change baby’s diaper and clothes. Get baby back in bucket. Change toddler. Herd toddler back to main desk to drop off pointless paperwork. Stop by referral office. Baby begins screaming. Toddler falls down. Nice lady tries to help toddler up. Toddler recognizes nice lady as HORRIBLE VICIOUS CHILD KIDNAPPER and begins screaming. Grab referral and shove it in my bag before looking at it. Drag two screaming children out to car. Put bucket down on icy sidewalk. Toss toddler in car. Snap bucket into seat. Go back around to driver’s side to buckle in toddler. Realize toddler has pooped again. Give up. Drive to McDonald’s. Buy breakfast sandwich and hashbrown. Throw hashbrown at toddler. Drive home. Unload toddler. Unload baby. Go back out for now-cold sandwich. Slip on ice and step in giant puddle. Sit on couch soaking wet to nurse and burp and nurse and rock and nurse screaming baby while toddler throws animal crackers at my face. Baby finally falls asleep. Put baby in bouncy seat. Get toddler more milk. Change toddler. Take toddler upstairs for nap time. Sit on couch. Eat freezing cold breakfast sandwich for lunch. PASS THE HELL OUT.

Aaaaaand that was just the MORNING.

Tomorrow we’re staying home. I’m expecting it to go about the same.

(This evening, when I finally checked my referral paperwork I discovered it is marked “normal” priority rather than “urgent”, which means they have a full month before they have to process it. It also says they’re going to choose the urologist for me, which means probably NOT the guy who’s already familiar with my medical history. I will get a letter in 7-10 days letting me know. Fantastic.)

I can honestly say that I was TOTALLY UNPREPARED for life with a newborn – mostly because apparently my first child wasn’t a human baby at all but some sort of puking, crying, fussing, alien monster who refused to nurse, stressed us out like crazy with jaundice, and generally made life miserable for at least his first four months of life. Looking back now, E and I are both going “Wow, we REALLY should have complained more to the doctor about that puking thing because obviously we were clueless about normal human babies”.

(Although honestly, we mentioned it ALL THE TIME and all we got was “Meh, some babies throw up a lot“, even from my lactation consultant. Clearly it wasn’t normal but since he was gaining weight no one cared how miserable it made everything in regards to our home life. If I hadn’t spent so much time doing frickin’ laundry the first time around maybe I would have gotten more sleep and not been quite so…well, horrible to everyone. Especially E. It was really sucky y’all.)

THIS baby is an angel. I would take a dozen of these babies. She spends all her time sleeping, only waking herself up with hilariously loud poops to get a new diaper, nurse for a while and then cuddle with anyone who holds her. She falls asleep again without any complicated shushing/swaddling/burping/dancing/begging/crying rituals in her swing or the (broken so it doesn’t actually bounce) bouncy seat or the co-sleeper or lying on the floor. She only requires one outfit a day and 90% of the laundry is a result of my overactive milk ducts and their ability to soak through anything in .43 seconds and not projectile baby puke.  When the baby nurse came to visit last week Caroline had already gained back all but 4 oz of her birth weight and I’m going to go ahead an predict by her 2 week checkup she’s already closer to 10 lbs than 8.

In further attempts to be absolutely nothing like her brother, Caroline has perhaps the world’s strongest latch and no doubts about using it to suck on pretty much anything (I’m hoping this is a good omen when it comes time to introduce a bottle). I’ve had to drag out my old nipple shield to deal with the tenderness and bruising – nothing serious or horrifying, but when she cluster feeds for two hours straight the pinching gets to toe-curling levels of painful. It’s not anyone’s fault – I don’t need a link to “how-to-get-a-better-latch” videos or whatever – just a result of her mouth being small and my engorgement being massive and a few lazy nursing sessions that did a little damage. Fortunately, my body remembered it WASN’T feeding a whole litter of babies this time around and I’m already back to normal nursing sized boobs instead of GIANT PORN STAR WHO STAPLED THESE BASKETBALLS TO MY CHEST??? sized boobs.

ALSO: I have a tip for sore nipples that doesn’t involve buying those super expensive gel pads I loved so much last time. Tea bags. Seriously. The baby nurse suggested it (she’s also an LC) and it’s amazing. Just steep two tea bags in hot water, let them cool off and stick them on your nipples. The tannic acid in the tea combined with the coolness helps soothe the bruising and pinching. The internet backs me up on this with science but my nipples back me up even more with “OMG THANK YOU”.

MORE ALSO: In the debate between “No, breastfeeding should NEVER hurt” and “A little nipple soreness can be normal while you’re adjusting” I am officially in the later camp. I know the difference between a good latch and a bad latch and even when we have it PERFECT I get a little sore after 30+ minutes of constant nursing. It’s definitely improving though, and I bet in 2 weeks I don’t even remember what I was complaining about.

As for the rest of my I-just-had-a-baby recovery, I can barely tell I just had a baby. I hesitate to say that I am AWESOME at giving birth (because someone awesome at giving birth could probably do it naturally in a wheat field at sunset instead of with an epidural) but my BODY is certainly prepared for labor and delivery pushing out an 8+ lbs baby, even if my brain is not prepared for that kind of pain. Like I said in my birth story, even my above average baby didn’t do any damage. She did so LITTLE damage in fact that I don’t even pee my pants when I sneeze anymore, something I was doing at 9 months pregnant. I KNOW. IT’S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. The worst part of my recovery was actually the stupid Tdap booster they gave me in the hospital that made my left arm practically useless for two full days and the rhogam shot I got in my left hip that hurt almost as much. That soreness combined with my milk coming in made me want to just hide under the covers and not let anyone touch me ever again – especially a toddler who thinks “jump on mommy” is the best game ever.

Oh but THEN I got another kidney infection, less than 24 hours after being discharged. I spiked a fever in the evening and another in the middle of the night but held off on calling the doctor until office hours and then talked them into letting me do outpatient lab work to confirm (although REALLY? I know what a kidney infection feels like by now. Swearies) and calling in antibiotics to my pharmacy rather than possibly readmitting me. I did NOT want to go back to the hospital, especially with a newborn nursling. I feel infinitely better after almost a week of antibiotics. But this probably means I should reschedule my March kidney stone removal appointment to some time sooner or the infections might keep happening and that doesn’t seem fun.

And now that I’ve told you how well everything is going, don’t be surprised when I take it ALL BACK next week. It’s the first law of blogging and I just broke it. I hope you’re happy internet.

Despite the circumstances being totally different, I could pretty much just repost Little Evan’s birth story here and go take a nap for the next half hour instead of writing Caroline’s. But the poor girl is already getting the second baby short stick in so many ways (a wardrobe of hand-me-downs! no baby book! unfinished nursery! I left her sleeping on the floor for 20 minutes last night while I checked my email went to the bathroom!) it’s not worth the therapy bills I’m going to be paying in 16 years. So here’s the story of how Caroline Noelle joined us.

I was NOT expecting to have this baby early, despite saying “Oh I think I’m having her early” about four bazillion times a day for the last 9 months. It’s one of those lies pregnant women tell themselves because it makes the pregnancy easier – like “Oh I’m sure this weight will come right off when I’m nursing!” I was REALLY not expecting to be induced, both because I had no problems going into labor with my first baby and because right up until the kidney stones/infection/hospitalization (and even during all that) Baby Girl showed no signs of distress or problems or largeness or any other reason for needing to make an early exit. I am excellent at being pregnant (despite the CONSTANT COMPLAINING but hey, that’s my right while I’m incubating another human – I’m pretty sure it’s in the Constitution and everything) and my blood pressure/weight gain/blood tests have always been right on track. The only time a doctor mentioned induction was a jokey “Don’t worry we can get that little tax deduction out before January 1st, no problem!”

So when I went in for my 38 week checkup on December 16th I wasn’t expecting to get the Concerned Face from my midwife over my elevated blood pressure, followed by orders for bloodwork and instructions to come back the next day for another check. I CLEARLY wasn’t expecting the next day’s appointment to land in me L&D all evening after my liver function numbers showed signs of pre-eclampsia and my blood pressure got even higher since I brought nothing with me besides my phone – not even knitting, and I never go ANYWHERE that might take a while without my knitting. After talking my way out of starting the induction immediately (it was scheduled for 5 pm Saturday) I spent Friday night and Saturday morning finishing as much last minute stuff as I could (including baking & shipping two kinds of fudge and two kinds of cookies for Madame Menu’s Holiday Cookie Swap because if there is one thing I’m dedicated to it is COOKIES) and staring dazedly at walls thinking “OMG I AM NOT READY FOR THIS!!” When my OB called Saturday morning to say she wanted me in ASAP instead of waiting until 5 I practically went into shock and flitted around half-finishing the four thousand things I suddenly felt an urgent need to accomplish. I finished exactly zero things.

At about noon on Saturday E and Little Evan dropped me off at L&D (by dropped me off I mean “came up to the floor and helped me get settled” – not “pushed me out the car door at laughed as they sped away”) so they could pick up Mom at the train station in Mystic at 3:45. All my nurse friends came in to say hi and congratulate me on being on the floor to have a baby instead of a kidney stone and I basked a little in my semi-celebrity status. It meant I got the biggest room, including the bathroom with a full sized shower rather than a teeny tiny corner nook, something I HATED when I was there for four days.

The floor must have been kind of busy (the rooms are REALLY soundproof so I can never tell) because it took a while for the nurse to come in and start my IV then a little while longer for the doctor to come in and check me to determine I was still at about 1.5 cm – the same as I was in the office on Friday, but soft and more than 50% effaced, which put me in pretty good shape to induce. They started me on the lowest level of pitocin right around 3 pm.  My blood pressure was still high but I felt fine and was still mostly just annoyed that everyone was making such a big deal out of what was probably nothing. E got back to the hospital around 4:45-ish after picking up Mom and leaving her and Little Evan at the house. Then my lab work came back with the protein in my urine at 4+, which is the highest it can be and meant I officially had pre-eclampsia. So…not exactly nothing after all. Suddenly my doctor’s Concerned Face turned into a So There’s A Risk You Might Have A Seizure During Labor Face, which meant she was ordering magnesium sulfate in addition to the pitocin. Thanks to my commenters, I actually knew what that was (yah internets!) and was prepared for her suggestion. I also knew it was used to slow down labor which meant more pitocin was going to be ordered even though they’d been slowly turning it up for a while and I was definitely feeling the contractions.

Then several things happened at once – the OB broke my water to make things go faster, the nurse started the magnesium on a pump so I was stuck at a cord’s distance from my bed and they raised the pitocin to about a 12 (out of 20) which made it necessary for me to clutch my blankets and breath through each contraction instead of just squinting a little. I also had to get up and change gowns since the water-breaking resulted in what can only be described as a deluge that had both the nurse and the OB literally JUMPING BACK away from the bed. The words “it was like a fountain!” were used. I then managed to produce a series of smaller fountains pretty much every time I had a contraction for the next few hours. I’m talented. After I got back in bed, I spent some time contemplating the miracle of life updating Twitter and wondering how much longer I had to wait before I got my epidural, which by this point wasn’t so much something I was considering-if-things-got-there as something I-absolutely-no-question-wanted. The doctor checked and said I was at 3 cm would you like me to call the anesthesiologist? YES. PLEASE.

E decided he should probably go get some dinner while the chances of missing the birth of his child for a turkey sandwich were still pretty good. He came back about 12 seconds after they finished my epi. I think he timed it like that on purpose, although I don’t blame him – I’ve now had two epis and a spinal and still NEVER seen the needles they use. The anesthesiologist and the nurses and I messed around with pillows and blankets and tilting me to the side until the numbness evened out nicely – tingly legs, no pain and just a mild sensation of tightness during contractions. The super nice anesthesiologist even gave me a little extra loading dose to make sure it was going to stick.

At 8 pm my doctor’s rotation was over and I got another doctor from the practice. I was NOT super thrilled to learn it was Man Doctor, the same one who refused to believe my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad, at least an 8 on the scale of 1-10, something is WRONG WITH ME PAIN was anything besides a pulled muscle. So, yeah, not thrilled. But after looking at my vitals for the last five hours (blood pressure still only borderline, no other symptoms) and my slow progression he decided if my next blood pressure was low he was going to pull the magnesium and stop the medications (and my body) from fighting against themselves so maybe I could actually have a baby some time in the next day. I decided to forgive him for the kidney stone. I got off the magnesium around 9 and at 10:30 E and I both decided to get some sleep. We drifted off to the soothing sounds of people drowning and freezing to death, thanks to Titanic (commercial free!) on our tv for background noise.

A little after 1:30 my nurse came in to do vitals again and asked how my contractions felt. I told her I had been sleeping so soundly I didn’t really notice them at all, which probably meant my epidural was up a little high since last time I could feel them better. She said “Well they’re pretty close together so just be sure to ring me if you feel the need to push – but don’t worry, I’ll be back in 15 minutes to check again.”

Which is why at 1:45 am I was sitting quietly in bed, reflecting on how amazing it was that I would soon be the mother of two and trying to enjoy a few more quiet pre-newborn minutes when I suddenly felt the baby’s head SLAM into my lady parts. Like, BOOM TIME TO HAVE A BABY. NOW. I was once again reminded why all those women on “I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant” end up giving birth on the toilet. (Interestingly enough, not once did I worry I might actually poop during labor and I certainly didn’t care if I did. That’s definitely a first-time-mom thing.)

If I had been sensible, I would have pressed the call button right then and there but I was so determined to finish all my reflecting and quietness and savoring of the moment that I just breathed really hard through the contractions and waited for my nurse. But when the breathing turned into clenching every muscle in my lower half as hard as I could so I didn’t end up DELIVERING MY OWN BABY I caved in a rang the desk to send someone in.

Of course, since I had just told my nurse I wasn’t feeling anything she didn’t really understand why I was acting all urgent about the situation and wandered off to find another nurse who was apparently the expert dilation checker. I somehow refrained from shouting at her that dilating was the least of my problems since I was pretty sure she could see the color of the baby’s eyes by this point. Expert dilation checker nurse took one look and ran off (apparently she wasn’t interested in catching a baby right then) but reappeared with the baby nurse and Man Doctor a few seconds later. I would have enjoyed a chance to be smug about my rightness but was way way too busy focusing on not pushing to muster up more than a tiny “I-told-you-so” face.

By 2:20 they were breaking the bed down into a labor bed and by 2:25 they FINALLY told me I was allowed to push. The nurses kept trying to help me arrange myself and my legs and adjust things but all I wanted them to do was leave me alone – the epidural was working to manage the pain but the stretching and pressure were VERY VERY present and I had no problems lifting my legs or scootching down so I could just please, finally, have my baby. Man Doctor said “So how long did you push with your first one?” and when I said “Seven times” he said “I think we might beat that this time”.

The nurse asked if I remembered how to push or if I wanted to practice. I told her I remembered. Two pushes later Baby Girl’s head was out and I felt SO MUCH BETTER. E told me later she was face down and the doctor had to turn her, which is why it took me three more pushes to deliver the rest of her. One of the nurses flopped her up on my chest and my first thought was “Oh my gosh, SHE’S HUGE!” They tried to clean her off and let me hold her for a minute but got kind of concerned when she didn’t start to scream – just a few tiny baby yells and some mewing. She was also really blue-ish (which ended up not being from lack of oxygen but from smashing her face into my pelvis on her way out) and only got a 5 for her first APGAR. Once the baby nurse checked her over and they realized she was awake and breathing and happy – just quiet – she got a 9 for her second. While they finished cleaning her off and wrapping her up Man Doctor informed me he was going to do one quick stitch but my epi was still on so I didn’t feel anything. After a nurse said Baby Girl was 8 lbs 5 oz he was pretty impressed at both my lack of damage and the short pushing time, but mentioned I shouldn’t grow the next one much bigger. Sounds like a challenge to me.

Once the baby was out they started unhooking me from stuff – first the monitors, then the epi (they had taken out the catheter before I started pushing), then they put a hep-lock on my IV and I was free. I could stand after about 30 minutes and they let me get up and use the bathroom (amazingly painlessly! a miracle!!) and get changed while E held the baby and we discussed her name. He was still pretty set on Piper but I think watching me give birth gave me the edge I needed to get him to cave on Caroline. She just looks more like a Caroline to me and after a few days with the name we can’t imagine calling her anything else.

I tried nursing a few times and she had a strong suck and a good latch but was too sleepy to last more than a few seconds at a time. I let the nurses take her down to the nursery for monitoring with strict instructions to BRING HER BACK if she made hungry noises or if they wanted her to try eating again and E and I both crashed – after all, 4 am is still 4 am, even if you just had a baby. ESPECIALLY if you just had a baby. They brought Caroline back around 7 and I got her to nurse for the hospital’s requested 15-20 minute stretch before we just hung out and cuddled and I admired the fact that I had grown not only another whole human being but such a totally adorable one. E slept until around 9, then went home to grab Little Evan and Mom so they could come meet her. The rest of my time on L&D was spent complaining about how much I HATE their stupid beds and asking when I could go home. Since all my pre-eclampsia symptoms disappeared after birth they couldn’t really make me stay so by 11 am Monday I was packed and ready and headed out the door so the four of us could start our lives together as a family of four. So far it’s been fantastic, really honestly fantastic.

So! There you go! Even with the unwanted induction and the Serious Faces and the magnesium sulfate and the Man Doctor I still think that was an excellent experience. The basics – 12 hours of labor, took a nap, woke up, short time pushing – were the same as with Little Evan. I guess technically it was even shorter in all because I started from not being in labor rather than regular timed contractions. Thanks to everyone who told me not to worry about induction – your reassurances kept me calm when I could have been super stressed. And thank you to everyone for all the congratulations, kind words and compliments on Caroline’s cuteness. I promise to provide as many Fresh Baked Baby pics as possible for the next few weeks!

Since THAT was super wicked insanely long, I’ll save Baby #2: The Aftermath for another post. Don’t worry, it’s not as terrifying as it sounds.